Alph has found herself overcome with the sudden urge to keep a diary. How peculiar!

The diary is a fancy pink booklet, lined with creamy white lace, locked with a fabulous golden shackle. There is no keyhole. Trying to force it open without dispelling the many wards will immediately teleport the diary to a different location.

Story: The Imminent Implosion.JHow Alph'el lost his Mansion... And a little bit more.

As the last sparkles of the portal faded out, a shock went through the room, strong like an earthquake. Alph nearly lost his footing, waving about and looking around in a frenzy. All of the cosmetic enchantments had long stopped working now. The walls where bare, there was no furniture, no servants. The mansion showed it's true face. A perfectly cylindrical room, with a single wall that went all around, and a perfectly level floor and ceiling. One could imagine the shape to be quite similar to that of a cookie tin, indeed! It appeared as cut out from rock, all of it's walls made from smooth stone. No seams, no windows... No door. All that decorated it was a line of blue light running across the bottom and top of the wall, lining the floor and ceiling. Luminous runes skittered across the narrow rim. In the center of the round room, exactly the center, there was another luminous circle, lined with constantly changing runic patterns. And now they where all flashing, blinking in alarm. Something was dreadfully wrong, indeed.

"Mansion!" Alph shouted. "What was that?? Conjure the main display!"From the rune in the center rose a series of magical frames, all glowing the same blue as the runes, an arcane conjured light. Alph'el staggered through the shaking room towards it, and grabbed one of the glitching frames for support. "Talk to me, baby!""Major system failure, master" a lifeless voice answered, echo-ing through the room. "All Illusion weaves have been unraveled. Navigation weaves are unraveling as we speak, barely hanging on by a thread."A smile crept over Alph's face, even in this dire time. Speaking to a body-less voice in the middle of a room he created always brought a smile to his face. It reminded him of his own genius, his power, his intellect, his ingenuity. Yes... Best mage ever, indeed. Another shock went through the room, bringing Alph back to the reality of the situation. How could the room even shake? It existed in a vacuum of nothing, there was nothing around to shake it. He decided to ask Mansion exactly that."The core anti-reality weave is unraveling, Sir. The quakes are caused by pockets of nether energies tugging at it. I estimate the weave will lose structural integrity in 3...""Oh... Ah-ha. Yes. And that means...""2...""Ah. Right.""1...""Best get going then. Open a portal t--"

Then, everything happened at once. Literally.The room appeared to lose any sense of... Being a room. All of the different shapes it had had since it's creation those many centuries ago overlapped, twitchy like a stroboscope, yet all existing in the same moment. Every illusion that had ever filled the room, every item in the wardrobe. They where all there, yet they where not. As reality itself started to break down around him, Alph felt the different dimensions tug and pull at him. It was excruciating. One moment his body was small, then it was big, then it was green, then it consisted of nothing but vapor. And all of this was happening in the same moment-- Or was it more moments? Perhaps it was all the moments. Time became meaningless. The distant voice of Mansion rang, through all of this, the only thing appearing marginally solid.

"Creating emergency escape weave. Goodbye, master Bloodwrath.""Mansion! No!"Or well, that's what Alph would have said if at that moment in un-time he would have had lounges. It is hard to tell, but at the moment when everything dissolved into a bright light, Alph was either a lamp or a shade of green. Both options are perfectly valid.

An instant later, he was laying on the brown soil of Stonetalon Mountains, just outside of the inn. Or was it a storage?Time and space had returned to normal. The ground felt solid, though the gravitational pull appeared less.Curious.Soon, worried marauders appeared around him. Seeping through the worry was curiosity, odd looks. Alph got himself up and dusted down his familiar cloak and tights. He seemed thinner then he remembered. And the Marauders taller. How curious.They started talking. A cow was the first. He barely heard them. He looked down at himself and there where two lumps poking out from his chest.Most peculiar, indeed.Come to think of it, his hips appeared quite wide as well. And his neck frail, and thin. And his feet at least two sizes larger.Well have I ever...He lifted a surprisingly nimble and elegant hand. The fingers wiggles gracefully, and a mirror appeared, woven from arcane strings. Alph looked at himself, and soon realized......-She- was looking at -Herself-.She slowly turned around in front of the mirror, posing like she always did, looking her body over carefully, and with great scrutiny. Slowly, a smile crept over her now full and soft lips.

Today was a difficult day. The marauders appear uncertain how to cope with the Grim-shaped hole that is becoming more and more visible now that the orc has been cast away indefinitely. Only the raptor regiment resembled some kind of functional body yesterday, with Hikka taking chieftains orders to heart immediately and executing them.

The circle and hammer, however, where a different matter. Skychaser appeared absent-minded, warcaller Sakarah was nowhere to be found. Recruits and oathsworn looked for guidance and orders that where not given. I found myself peddling between Warcallers and Stormseers who all told me to go ask someone else, with no-one able to show the initiative needed to execute the chieftains orders. Eventually Himo stepped up, warcaller of the Hammer, leading a group dominated by Circle members. For reasons unknown and beyond my understanding he allowed an unknown Blood Knight to accompany the group. The arrogant wench constantly attempted to seize command.

I don't like her, though it must be said her uniform is impeccable.

When we arrived at our destination, Shadowprey village, we found it under Kor'kron control. The Blood Knight barged in, and I had no choice but follow. I will not be responsible for the death of a Blood Knight. Deceiving the dim-witted orcs to believe me a woman of power was easy. They respond to arrogance and violence. Act like you are better, more qualified and more powerful then them, and they will eventually do anything you tell them to. The Blood Knight almost ruined the whole operation by attacking the Kor'kron in their own base.

Typical. Paladins are fools. Another reminder not to place trust in those corrupted by the divine intellect.

Through my own quick actions and the inventive application of magic from Nami, we managed to escape, taking a troupe of captive trolls with us.

The mission was a failure. They have been alerted to us, and will be on guard. I shall advice the chieftain to turn her attention elsewhere. Securing Stonetalon is of a higher priority.

The wonderful tapestry Darilas had just completed was lost in the fire. This greatly saddened me. The Kor'kron will pay for their insolence.

A most magnificent figure appeared in camp today. He had his magnificent body on display for all to day, a true delight among the smelly Tauren and Greenskins. It's quite clear he had some magical talents, but unfortunately has decided to degrade himself to the meaningless parlor trick of "fortune telling". It breaks my heart to see talented boys drop out of the academy to pursue such trivial professions.

I tried to bond with the recruit Ishkur, but all he can talk about is fish. Bloody fish. Who cares about fish, anyway? It's ridiculous. He reminds me of the warlock Roed for some reason. They have a certain charming innocence to them. How aggravating.

I spotted Maradia in camp. That was surprising. I will allow her to seduce me. She does not displease me as much as many others. I instructed her to drop the moronic charade she's running and reveal herself to the Chieftain. If she does not, I will reveal her intentions myself. They are no threat to the warband. The Chieftain deserves to know what goes on in her own camp.

Darilas confessed his affections for me, as was expected. I have derived from his statements that he will not be able to look beyond my gender. That is unfortunate, he would have made a pleasing companion. His scent remains as alluring as ever. He is working on a new tapestry to reflect recent developments.

Camp lay silent all night. I decided on a bold move; I would go to General Bloodmark and make an official report of the honor duel, without the chieftains consent. It is preposterous that a powerful ally like that isn't honored with an official response, we cannot afford to lose them. When I arrived the Orcs where doing some sort of pagan ritual. It was long and displeasing, the fort reeked of sour Orc bodies and blood. It was gross. Bloodmark was dis-proportionally rude when I finally got to speak to him. Someone ought to teach that boy some manners.

Miss Annos was there. The half-elf is still as unpleasant as ever.

I briefly spoke to Lords Sunbinder and Sunwing. Sunbinders focusing-lens project is progressing slowly, and the dim fool hasn't considered military applications yet. Sunwing had nothing of interest to say. That man is dull, and useless. "Grand Magister" indeed.

The orcs claimed knowledge of large alliance moments. The blade-master even claims to have gotten word from Vol'jin himself, by written letter. It appears the power is getting in their heads. They think themselves more important then they are. Fools.

I took the Mancleaver with me to see the reported Alliance movements with my own eyes. The reports where exaggerated, as was expected, but certainly true. I disguised myself as a High Elf, carrying the ancient name "Sylmanor Silvershine". As usual, it worked like a charm, I was able to stride right into their camp unharmed, and even have a couple of conversations.

I must admit it was refreshing to be among civilized people again. This is not the first time I regret the destruction of old alliances. Humans may be daft, fat little piggies, but at least they are civil daft little piggies.

There was a man that look at me with the stunned adoration I remember from visits to Stormwind. It pleases me to see there are still those that recognize the superiority of the elven lineage.

It's always fun to see a character's personality reveal itself trough the narration, and for that reason I enjoyed the diary entries too, but not as much. I don't know much about the Marauders after all, so most of the story is lost on me.

Thelos wrote:I don't know much about the Marauders after all, so most of the story is lost on me.

I imagine they're only really fun to read when your character get a mention. I decided to post them here as well because recent entries have involved character outside of the Marauders, and they might see it and chuckle briefly.

Tonight was to be the night we liberate Shadowprey from the Kor'kron. Himo presented a plan that was typical of the dim, in-creative minds of Tauren and Orcs. I verbalized my dislike for the plan, and instead of forcing it on us Himo engaged in a dialogue. That was pleasing. He retreated to think his plans over once more. It is likely for the best, our position is weak. It would be wise to stock up on supplies and secure our well being before laying siege to a settlement.

Darilas had some very good ideas. The commander in him starts to show itself. Good. This warband is desperate for some elven intellect taking charge.

He rides a wolf. Yuck. Why can't he just ride a cock like a normal Blood Elf boy?

The Shatterskulls, mostly Shriukan, appear obsessed with my dislike for dirt. The desire to stay clean seems alien to these creatures of fur. It is Jarring how they continuously expect me to adapt to their standards, yet they are unwilling to respect my personal desires to not play with sticks in the mud.

Displeasing.

I overheard the Mancleaver request the chieftain to lift his oath. What is he planning? I suspect he seeks a way out with Grim, to join his savage orc brethren. A shame. He amuses me.

I have decided to pay another visit to the Alliance soon. While there is a treaty, I intend to make full use of it. This time I will go without illusions or disguise, but with a teleportation rune charged and ready for extraction. I am curious to see how committed they are to a treaty.

Today stated off shockingly dull. Our Stonetalon base lay deserted as it so often does.

Out of curiosity and sheer boredom, me and the Mancleaver went to visit Stonepaws little gang. They are ruffians, indeed! Never have I seen such a collection of rowdy, scruffy and just simply rude individuals. A constant stream of idle threats and glutteral growls just rolls out of them as they speak. They believe themselves intimidating, but they are nothing more the uneducated street thugs.

They consider themselves free, with allegiance to no one. Not Garrosh, not the rebellion. They have become vermin, a blight on Kalimdor. Grim even seemed to encourage distasteful practices like cannibalism.

One of the orcs had the biggest beard I have seen since leaving Dalaran. He wouldn't let me touch it. That was mean.

Later that night I found Gelarieu. He's left the warband to study with the college of revenants, it seems. Very displeasing, I could have given that boy a much more reliable education myself. I wouldn't trust the revenants to teach someone how to cast a level one standard issue fireball.

In the end I went back to Shattrath to work on M.A.N.S.I.O.N #2. I shall be more careful this time, to prevent further incidents.